Pitchers

Menu Monday: Annoyed Baby Edition

IT IS STILL TECHNICALLY MONDAY, OKAY?

Last week, I made a mistake that led to a good sort of problem: I planned too many meals. Our wonderful neighbor Amanda brought us a pan of venison lasagna Friday night, and there was no way I was cooking once I had that ready-made deliciousness in my hands. And Saturday, I forgot that we were going to a Mardi Gras open house at our other neighbors’ house. This is our first year living on the parade route, and we are happy to report no major problems or inconveniences except for a traffic jam on our street after the Krewe of Centaur parade finished up, which didn’t bother us because we weren’t going anywhere. The Guy had to work late last Saturday, and I’m still too much of a nervous mother hen to do take Harper to things like that by myself (first baby, etc.), but we’re planning to walk down to the Gemini parade this weekend. I’ve been working on teaching Harper to scream and lift her shirt, and I think we’re making some real progress.

(Kidding, Mother. Kidding.)

So there are a couple repeats from last week, but I spiced things up (spiced? See what I did there?) by including a Powell Family Original (TM) recipe.

Menu Monday: Baby Bonus Edition.

Monday: Pork tenderloin tips, sweet potato (we split one) and Brussels sprouts.

Tuesday: The Guy’s Tuna Rigatoni Marinara (recipe below)

Wednesday: Soup and sandwiches

Thursday: Out for Dad’s birthday

Friday: Baked Ziti With Spinach

Saturday: The Guy’s seafood gumbo – this time, we’re trying out a baked roux.

Sunday: Grilled pork chops and broccoli

The Guy’s Tuna Rigatoni Marinara

Look, I know what you’re gonna say: “Canned tuna? And store-bought marinara sauce? Blech!” PREACHIN’ TO THE CHOIR, FOLKS, preachin’ to the choir. The Guy invented this little delicacy one night while I was at Bunco, and when I came home and he told me what unholiness he hath wrought in our kitchen, I fully expected to hate it. But it was good, y’all, I swear (I only tasted it because I am a very nice wife). And it’s turned out to be one of our favorite meals, honest! Of course, it doesn’t hurt that we almost always have all the ingredients on hand, it takes about 20 minutes to make and it’s SUPER cheap.

1 tblsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tblsp minced garlic (I actually prefer freeze-dried garlic, but then I’m not usually the one cooking this)
2 small or 1 large can water-packed solid white albacore tuna
1/2 tsp chili flakes (optional)
1 jar tomato pasta sauce (we like vodka pasta sauce)
1 pound rigatoni pasta, or any large pasta you have on hand
Salt for pasta water
Parmesan cheese (if desired)

Heat olive oil, then add garlic; stir for a couple minutes. Add tuna and chili flakes (if using) and cook for five minutes, stirring often. Pour in sauce; cook at least until heated through, but ideally for as long as possible. While sauce is simmering, boil pasta. Cook for one minute less than package directions. Drain pasta, return to boiling pot and pour in sauce. Cook on low heat for 5 minutes more. Serve with Parmesan cheese, if desired.

Your can-opening
Kel

Party Girl

Predictably, a sense of melancholy fell over me after Harper’s first birthday party. After weeks of planning, strategizing, shopping, choosing, ordering, crafting, sewing and a whole lot of hot gluing (also: second-degree burning), I finally had a moment to sit and think about my girl being one whole entire year old, and how this “baby” business is flying by way, way too fast for my liking.

Rat's first birthday party is five days away, and Mom and I are sitting smack in the middle of crafting and sewing hell.

I think I shall take her out in the rain and shrink her so she’ll stay a baby forever.

That’s how it works, right?

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At any rate, she had a blast at her party, which is the best outcome I could’ve possibly hoped for. And, after some initial skepticism, it turns out Little Miss is quite the fan of cupcakes, just like her mama.

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Also, she is now under the erroneous impression that all cupcakes are for her. I.e., she threw a fit at Joy’s birthday brunch when I wouldn’t hand over my entire cupcake.

Before Harper was born, I started planning a cowgirl theme (yes, I am EXACTLY the kind of person who begins planning her daughter’s first birthday party before she’s even born), but in February, I decided Raggedy Ann was the only way to go. See, Raggedy Ann dolls are one of Delta Gamma’s symbols. (Well, officially, DG refers to it as a “Hannah Doll,” but in reality, most chapters use Raggedy Anns.) It was my small way of honoring Thorpe, whom Harper never got to meet.

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I hope Thorpe would’ve been tickled pink.

The lovely and incredibly talented Henrietta Wildsmith photographed the event for us. She also took Harper’s newborn photos and photographed her baptism, and as usual, she did an incredible job. Thanks to her hard work, I was able to be completely present for Harper’s party and focus on being a proud mom, not a photographer, and that meant the world to me.

Plus, we got our Christmas card photo out of it, so SCORE.

We also need to talk about how AMAZING The Guy was during my days (and nights) of June-Cleaver-on-speed-esque over-planning and neurosis leading up to the party. He never ONCE complained, and he jumped in and cheerfully did every single thing that needed to be done, including, but not limited to, going to three different stores to find polka-dotted balloons and paper straws and making an 11 p.m. run to Walmart to get Tabasco for the cucumber tea sandwiches. Because if THAT’S not a bona fide emergency, you’re going to have to tell me what is because I just don’t know.

In sum: A real man will hold you while you freak the eff out about be-glittered chipboard letters.

Want to see some more pics from Harperpalooza? They’re right here. That’s not all of them – Henrietta literally shot hundreds (a photographer after my own heart!) – but those are the ones that tell the story of a fun, exciting day that we two out of three of us will remember forever.

Your party-hoppin’
Kel

Birthday Girl

Today, my newborn baby Rat is one year old. To be precise, she will be exactly one year old today at 5:56 p.m. That’s the first time I heard her sweet little mewing cry, a sound I wish I had recorded because it’s growing increasingly difficult to remember what this busy little girl looked and sounded like as a tiny, helpless baby.

Eighteen Hours.

She is already everything I always hoped I would be. And no, I don’t mean that in a weird, vicarious sort of way, like I just gave away my nefarious plan to mold her into a NYCB dancer in my basement lair, but she’s fiercer, braver and mightier than her mama ever thought about being.

Bonnet.

My daughter has changed my life for the better in more ways than I could list in a book, let alone on this blog. Being her father’s wife and her mother are the two greatest things I’ve ever done and ever will do, and if anyone thinks that’s hopelessly un-feminist or that I’ve lost my sense of self or, frankly, my mind, well, I can live with that. I am an integral part of a family. I am important and necessary in ways I never thought I would be. I finally have some sense of my own worth in the eyes of God, and that is what Harper Nell Powell gave to me on her birthday.

Trust the Gorton's Fisherman.

Lest you think I’ve completely gone down the rabbit-hole, I’ll tell you that I still adore my job(s), and I expect I always will. (I told Blake the other day that I don’t ever plan to “retire.” Sure, I’d like to work less and with less pressure, but giving up writing and photography would be the exact opposite of a happy retirement.) I love that I get the opportunity every day to be creative (and get paid for it!), and I love interacting with other adults in a professional setting. I even love the minutiae of running a business. It’s just that I love being a wife and mom more. And if there’s just one thing I want Harper to know always, it’s that I love her and I love being her mom. As I sit here, I know that my own mother loves me more than anything in the world, but I don’t think she was particularly fired up about being a mom in general. I, on the other hand, relish it. I love washing Harper’s little clothes, I love picking up her toys, I love thinking of what to feed her for meals, I love reading books about child development, I love socializing with other moms, I love taking her to church even though it’s exhausting, I love sewing and crafting things for her, I love changing her diaper in the back of my car and I love planning her birthday party (which has been the main reason for my recent unplanned blog hiatus).

Bath time.

That sounds like a lot of distractions from work, and it is, but being Harper’s mom has given me and my photography business a clarity and a focus that I never knew I could have and that, to be bluntly honest, very few who know me personally, including me, thought I was capable of. What used to take my all day can now be done in a couple of hours, i.e., during naptime. And although I try never to speak for The Guy, I think he would wholeheartedly agree that, although he has always loved his job, he has a whole new level of enthusiasm and confidence about it, in part because of his role as a father. If you were to distill it down to a single reason, I guess it’s that there are far fewer hours in a day that we can spend focused solely on our work, so we have to come to our jobs with a laser-like focus and take care of what’s important and eliminate what’s not, which has made both of us more efficient, more creative and more motivated.

This first year has not been easy. Joyful, yes. Easy? Not on your life. There has been an enormous learning curve for me and The Guy to overcome, and I’ve said more than once that, when we have another baby, I’ll feel kind of bad for Harper, because she’s the one who had to be the guinea pig. Every baby is different, so there’s no guarantee the next one will be smooth sailing, but having the first one is like riding a roller coaster in the dark; you never know what’s coming next. At least the next time around, we’ll have SOME idea what to expect. But Harper’s the one who made us parents, and because of that, she’ll always be special.

I’m so excited to see how she’ll grow and change and learn and develop in the next year. Yesterday, at Thanksgiving dinner with family, she more than held her own with her two- and four-year-old boy-cousins, so if I had to guess, I’d say we’re probably going to have more snails and puppydog tails than sugar and spice in our lives. And that’s just fine with me. It’d be great if she were a Girlus maximus like her mama, but if she’s not, then my five-year plan involves turning Harper Nell Powell into a spider-killing, attic-exploring, four-wheeler-riding machine. Which I am most definitely not. Although I did kill a spider yesterday to keep it from getting in her room. (If it had been anywhere else, I totally would have screamed, slammed the door, run away and waited for The Guy to get home. So yeah, I can unload a 9 mil into a splatter target with a pearly-white smile on my face, but smooshing a spider gives me the shivers for 45 minutes. Sue me.) So on top of everything else, Harper makes me brave.

She’s asleep at the moment, no doubt passed out face-down in her crib, drooling on her Winnie the Pooh doll that’s becoming more of a constant companion by the day, but when she wakes up, we’ll look at her Global Babies book that Linda and Elaine gave her (it’s the first thing besides Pooh that she wants every morning – I think she’s checking on them), cuddle her “Tiger Tail” (a little purple-and-yellow plush football with a striped tail attached), scatter blocks and maybe even rip up a fresh magazine (there’s very little Harper likes more than a brand-new, pristine magazine). She’ll babble to herself and say “Uh oh,” “BOOM!” “bo,” “I love you” (sort of), and, if I’m lucky, “good girl.” And that she is, my friends – a good girl. So I better go and fix another cup of coffee. It’s going to be a busy day.

Harper Thanksgiving 2012

Your candle-lighting
Kel

P.S. Want to see the many ways this nugget has grown and changed over her first year? Go here!

Menu Monday: The Guy Edition

The Guy and I were a leeeeetle busy this weekend.

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MJ 1 WM RS

Porter 2 WM RS

Molly 1 WM RS

Knox 1 WM RS

ET 1 WM RS

Rat 1 WM RS

Jacs 1 WM RS

EA 1 WM RS

EA 2 WM RS

LH 1 WM RS

LH 2 WM RS

There cannot possibly be one single person on Earth who loves her job(s) as much as I do.

But as you can imagine, we were pretty wiped by Sunday evening. Nevertheless, The Guy did me a solid and planned the menu for the week!

To be perfectly honest, I kind of figured it would look like this:

Monday: Wings
Tuesday: Beer
Wednesday: Taco Bell
Thursday: Quail gumbo
Friday: Scotch
Saturday: Steak
Sunday: Mashed potatoes

But I guess week after week of menu planning has rubbed off on him, because he did an excellent job of incorporating what we already have on hand, using up leftovers, taking into account our schedule this week and so on!

Color me tres impressed! So here it is:

Menu Monday: The Guy Edition!

Mon: Soup and sandwiches

Tue: Cajun Alfredo Pasta (I knew what he meant) – a lighter version using low-fat jarred alfredo sauce and whole-wheat pasta

Wed: Haley‘s coming over for dinner and The Guy has rehearsal (he’s in Miracle on 34th Street at Emmett Hook Center Nov. 30-Dec. 9!), so we’re having homemade pizzas!

Thu: Pan-Roasted Chicken With Lemon-Garlic Green Beans

Fri: Black-bean breakfast burritos (our own meatless version of these)

Sat: Sausage, Spinach and Tortellini Soup – one of our all-time favorites! We’ve played around with it a lot, and we prefer to omit the butter and use whole-wheat pasta.

Sun: Chili – The Guy’s own delicious concoction

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So here’s my question this week: When you were a kid, did you love Santa Claus, or were you terrified of him?

Your Santa-loving
Kel

Menu Monday

We got home yesterday from a belated anniversary celebration weekend in Hot Springs, and I haven’t even had time to write this week’s menu on the chalkboard!

For shame, Mrs. Bachelor Girl.

If you grow up anywhere near the Northwest Louisiana/East Texas/Southern Arkansas region, you take at least one vacation in Hot Springs. You just do. Unless, of course, you’re me, and your parents are violently allergic to anything even remotely touristy and will, in fact, go to enormous lengths to avoid even looking like tourists. Which is how three residents of Henderson, TX, one of whom was only ELEVEN YEARS OLD, ended up lost in San Francisco’s Chinatown at 2 a.m.

But I digress.

(Give me Jellystone Park any day of the week, is the point I’m trying to make here.)

I’ve always wanted to go to Hot Springs. It probably seems kind of dumb, but something about 140-degree water bubbling up out of the ground just fascinates me to no end. So obviously, we had to do the whole bath-and-massage routine for which Hot Springs is famous, and believe me, it did not disappoint. The Guy done good.

Room with a view.

The Guy.

(I’m awfully glad he sprung for a private bath, though, so I didn’t have to try to relax while steeping myself in Senior Citizen Tea.)

The other super fun thing we did on vacation was go to an indoor firing range, which was practically a religious experience.

Bullseye!

So our anniversary consisted of: guns, pizza, beer, shopping, a visit to a spa and Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle.

(Um. ?)

And Harper spent the weekend at my parents’ house, where she spent the entire time trying to stick her hand in the dog food bowl.

A good time was had by us all. Clearly.

Now on to the menu!

After a long weekend of overindulgence, we’re eating crazy clean this weekend. I’m at the point where the thought of Halloween candy entering my household makes me slightly nauseated.

Mon.: Apple Rosemary Pork Loin and brussels sprouts

Tue.: Black beans, cornbread and salad

Wed.: Soup and sandwiches

Thu.: Roasted chicken with new potatoes and green beans

Fri.: Homemade pizza and salad

Sat.: 10 Minute Enchiladas (a lighter version using Amy’s Kitchen organic frozen burritos and low-fat cheese) and sauteed spinach

Sun.: Penne and broccoli pasta

If it weren’t for Pinterest, my family would probably eat cold cereal and Cheetos every night for dinner, I swear.

So what’s cookin’ at your place?

Your recipe-pinning
Kel

Santa Claus is Coming to Town!

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Harper 1 WM RS

Harper 2 WM RS

Santa 1 WM RS

Your merry and bright
Kel